Lamentations
by ThePropheticOne
Summary: A monumental undertaking. A novelization of the first Dark Souls game seem from the player character's perspective. please R&R as i love discussing deep dark souls lore. I will personally return the favor with a review of my own.
1. Author's note

Author's note:

This is a fanfiction of one of the deepest and most thought out games ever made. However, it is still a game. While my intention is to keep the purity of the narrative accurately, itISstill a game; as such it would make for quite a boring read if all I did was make a "He did this then went there and died and tried again" story. To remedy this, I have taken a few liberties. Some of the NPCs encountered in game are in different places and play slightly more important roles, both in dialogue and action than just more and more merchants. That's not to say that I completely changed them, as a matter of fact, I am trying to incorporate as much original dialogue as makes sense. A few items have also had their abilities tweaked as to give more drama to the story.

One of the biggest changes I had to make is the nature of Firelink Shrine and the "humanity" element of the game. It plays a central role still, but not as just another gathered item, as it makes little sense in a book, whereas in a game it fits perfectly. So please, that is the one area I ask for a bit of an open mind.

Aside from that, I am trying to do this incredible work of art justice by incorporating as much lore as I have learned into it. My hope is to inspire any who haven't bothered to and/or don't know how to eek the beauty of this magnificent world that Miazaki and his team have made.


	2. Prologue

Prologue

 _I don't remember much from before… Definitely NOT my name, nor my family, if I had one, nor many of the events of my life. Those are things that get stored in your brain. Only a few things are burned into my mind… no, into my soul. I remember the histories… how could I not, they are part of me. I remember the accursed brand—the Darksign—and what it means for my fate, I remember some of my motivations… my morals… my reasoning, and… her. Oh how could I possibly forget about **her**!_

 _I 've a lot of time to contemplate… Not much else to do in this slime coated cell. I don't remember exactly how I got here, although I do know why… How long have I been here, alone… forgotten… A few years? A decade? More? I really don't know… Even the rats have stopped coming to pester me. Nothing left to gnaw on I suppose. My flesh has grown taut and leather-like, more and more skin peels off my bones and face every day… My tongue is literally stuck to the roof of my mouth… The worst day, though, was the day my eyes fell off, strangely, it happened to both that same day… Tis my fate… for I am branded. I am… undead._

 _Strange it is, that even now, unable to rest—unable to die—that I still feel time pass… and it is agonizing! Every second may as well be a century. There is nothing for me anymore. Nothing but these cold, hard walls and that small grate up above; that accursed grate that allows only enough light to see another day go by. Whatever am I to do? Now, after all this time I am beginning to grow restless, my resignation is giving way to some more primal urges. I am losing the battle for my own mind as my brain rots in my skull. Soon I'll be no better off than the shambling corpses out there that gnaw and claw at my door from time to time. It is only a matter of time. I'll be one of them, mindless; driven only to feed—I'll go hollow…_

 _No! I cannot even begin to think it! Despair is the fastest road to my demise… I have to stay sharp! BAH! Look at me… talking to myself like a schizophrenic. Oh well… I suppose it cannot be helped. Fine! Let this be my new reality…_

 _Well, then, my new friend… Shall I tell you a story?… While I still hold onto the last vestiges of my humanity… Yes, yes I think I shall tell you about my world; about the histories of my people, man, but only what I can remember… And… unfortunately… it isn't much… but let us begin, shall we?_

 _Carim is my home. It is best defined as a nation of absolutes. There are only extremes where I come from, only day and night, only light and dark, right and wrong… Only "sin" and "innocence." In my homeland our lords, religious rulers, train up agents; agents called the Pardoners. These individuals are sent throughout the land and their mission is to either absolve beings of their violent, murderous sins (at cost of course)… or sick the darkmoon knights, like never relenting hunting hounds, to punish them if they refuse penance._

 _I think I have memories of this… of being a darkmoon. I believe that I was indeed a blade of the Lady of Sin, the goddess **Velka.** Loyalty to her is the only reason I have kept my sanity in the first place… She is a pale beauty, perfect in every conceivable way… timid in nature, and slight in stature, but demanding of absolute obedience. She is fiercely loyal, and protective… like a mother, to those who serve her obediently… who serve her wholly. Oh how I remember the silky softness of her midnight black hair… and the penetrating sound of her soft, gentle voice; a voice that could reach down into one's very soul and compel one to such humility and brokenness as to pour out all their deepest and darkest secrets in hopes of her forgiveness... and it was forgiven, for me anyways… always forgiven…_

 _It was she who comforted me when none else could… When that brand showed up as a twisted knot of scar and flesh above my very heart… which is now a gaping hole in the cavern of my chest… An unmistakable sign that I was cursed. Forgive my derailed train of thought. I said earlier though… I remember her. I remember every detail of our single night together, every whispered word spoken, every scent, every indescribable emotion, every… sensation… It was a ritual, I know; a rite, a part of being inducted into her order, a means to gaining our undying loyalty… I know this, but she made it personal… She made it be about me… I… I shall never forget it. I shall never, ever betray her… I love her…_

 _Bah! Enough of this sentimentality… I apologize, my friend. I am growing too melancholic. Anyway, being an immortal, my Lady operates behind the scenes; she is not brutish enough to directly interfere in we mortals' affairs. This is why she needed us… why she needed me. Her time and her direct dealings were are with her peers—the Gods… She sits, on her throne of shadows, using what means she has to keep an eye on all things… On all sins. The crows, and spiders, and all things slithering are her eyes and ears; her Pardoners are her voice in the world… and Darkmoons, her loyal knights, are her hands and feet._

 _I suppose the mention of divinity demands an explanation as well… very well, but first. What shall I call you, my new friend, and sharer of my thoughts?_

 _Nothing?… a quiet companion then. Very well, I'll talk and you'll listen, not like you have much choice I suppose. At least I'm still sane enough to not have you answer back… I shall name you… How about… Wonder. Mmm yes… I think that suites you. You seem quite the inquisitive type. Well now Wonder, to learn about the Gods we must go back to the beginning… beyond them, to a time before time._

 _In the Age of Ancients the world was unformed, untouched for eons, and shrouded by an unending fog. A twilight land of ocean and enormous gray crags, of Archtrees and Everlasting Dragons. But then, as if from nowhere… there was Fire; a furious and beautiful flame… and with fire came disparity, as had never existed before. Heat and cold, life and death, and of course, light and dark._ _Then from the dark, **they** came._

 _You must understand… before Fire, all was muted and gray and halfways… Half living, half stone dragons, and shambling half-alive beings that they lorded over and subjugated. Come to think of it, these pre-sentient beings were probably not much different from us now as undead… Hmm… I may never have put two and two together on that before if not for this. Thank you, Wonder, for the inspiration._

 _Anyway, out of these half alive beings, four of them are insatiably drawn to a faraway land; a land high above the rest of the world, a land of mystery, where time and space are suspended and… distorted… where different eras in time, past and future, fall upon one another like waves and then recede just the same, to the land of Lordron… the Land of Fire. They are drawn to this fire, to this First Flame… and they found the Souls of Lords within the flame. It is unknown if these souls were birthed from the Fire or simply a result of a new phenomenon in nature itself…_

 _The beings who claimed these souls were Nito, the First of the Dead; The Witch of Izalith and her Daughters of Chaos; Gwyn, the Lord of Sunlight along with his faithful knights, and lastly…the Furtive One, a long forgotten wisp in the histories…_

 _With the strength of Lords they challenged the Everlasting Dragons, and from their lofty new kingdom, rained destruction upon the former dominant species on this planet. Gwyn's mighty lightning bolts devastated them, peeling apart their stone scales. The Witches, guided by their Mother, weaved great firestorms, ancient pyromantic spells that wreaked havoc on the Arch trees, the home of these mineral monsters. Nito unleashed a miasma of death and disease into the whole of the world, ensuring the dead dragons remain dead. And Seath the Scaleless; a dragon profoundly different from his brethren, betrayed his own kind, and as such the Dragons were no more._

 _Thus began the Age of Fire. An age of long life and sunlight and excess, of mighty cities and even mightier heroes… But soon the flames will fade… and only Dark will remain. Even now there are only embers, and mankind sees not light, but only a future of endless night. And amongst the living are seen, carriers of the accursed Darksign._ _Yes, indeed. The Darksign brands the Undead. And in this world, the Undead are corralled and led to the north—to the edge of the earth—where they are locked away, to await the end of the world... This… this is my fate…_

 _So now what do you think, Wonder? My new friend…_

 _Are_ **you** _prepared?_


	3. Undead Asylum

Undead Asylum

 _Another day is upon us Wonder. Look! Oh look and see how the morning brightness streams through the grate. It is my favorite time of day… The green in this hideous cell is at least cast bright yellow._ Something feels strange today… something different, something… off. _The Hollows outside seem especially restless today. I have even heard the deep guttural groans that I believe come from the jailor. Haven't heard that sound in a long while… Something or someone is agitating the air in this place._

As I ponder all of these things in my head I suddenly hear a shuffle from up above. A grunt follows and then as if from nowhere a head pops into view. A gleaming beam of sunlight reflects off the polished steel helmet of a knight. I think I see him give a nod of acknowledgement. Maybe he knows I am no hollow. Then something even more unexpected happens. He drops a pair of rusty keys on a ring down the grate to me.

I am free! Thank you stranger! Is what I would like to scream at the top of my lungs but all I manage is a grunt and a nod of my own. Then as quickly as he showed up, the knight vanishes from sight. _Who are you? Oh what does it matter? We are free Wonder! Thank you!_

I stand up, an act that now requires the use of muscles I haven't bothered to use in probably months. I stretch out my legs for a brief moment and then as I bend over to pick up the keys by back cracks and pops as it aligns itself again. The keys are a perfect fit. _I wonder if there is but one key for all these doors… not much we can do once inside and no one would ever need us to get out._ With a clank the door lock disengages and with a creak that is much louder than I would have liked, it swings open on its own accord.

Outside the cell is darker than I thought. _Seems I received the luxury suite, eh Wonder, heh heh heh…_ Ancient sconces hold torches that are barely embers at this point, but it is hardly enough light to make it forward without stumbling on the stone debris or sloshing through slimy puddles. The hall leads past several dozen cells, each housing a solitary figure. Some slumped and resigned as I had been minutes ago, others though, reach for me with a furious hunger. Desperation and rage making the deep recesses where their eyes had been seem to glow red.

 _I wonder if we are so frightening to behold. I wonder… would anyone recognize me now… would she even recognize me now?_ Water shuffles to my right and my instincts must kick in on their own because I roll forward in a clumsy tumble but evade the desperate swing of a hollow that must have somehow escaped confinement. Turning now, I face the aggressor. He lunges again, using what looks to be a hilt of a short sword with not but six inches of blade to try and gut me. I still have strength in my old corded muscles and as I sidestep his lunge I grab him by his thin neck and twist. With a loud crack the body falls limp.

 _You won't be needing this now will you, my friend._ Broken as it is the broken sword is better than nothing at all. The pathway leads up a short staircase out away from the rancid water. I see two more uncaged undead but they don't approach me, so I let them be. I come to another hallway. The sound and scent assault me before I even see it. On the other side of a wall of prison bars along the left length of the room is the jailor—the Asylum Demon—pacing restlessly. It could best be described as an upright boar, fifteen feet tall with bumpy, gray, leathery skin and rump so fat it could crush a person just by falling backwards. Disproportionately small wings sprout from its hunched shoulders, but the most disturbing thing about this demon is what it wields; an axe twice the length of a man with a "blade" made of a hunk of iron that must weigh several hundred pounds.

 _Hopefully we are able to sneak around that monstrosity… I would rather not tussle with the likes of a beast like that._ As quietly as inhumanly possible I make my way down that corridor and another flight of stairs brings me up to ground level. Luck is on my side it seems, as I push on a set of wooden doors at least twenty feet tall and they budge open. Ahead of me is a sight that I never thought I would behold—a **bonfire.**

 _I suppose this warrants an explanation, as so many things will. Such things do not exist in many other places… A little further lore is needed in order to understand such things… Pay attention Wonder, this is perhaps the most unbelievable part of the histories and my world as a whole. I previously mentioned that the four beings that found the Souls of Lords acquired these powers near the flame._

 _Well…in this world the power or essence of a person—our souls in actuality—are actual tangible entities. As undead we are accursed… fundamentally different from other beings in this world._ _It is belief among the common people that the Darksign; the brand of a person becoming undead, is actually the hole in which our original soul slowly escapes our body, akin to heat escaping a lantern. So when we become undead we slowly become mere flesh husks, but this emptiness affords us an ability that none but human undead possess; the ability to transfer the power of a soul that we say has become Soverignless from a fallen enemy or corpse into our own body. The more souls an undead can attain…the stronger he can become. Over the years… as our knowledge of this ability grew we also learned that we could willingly divide these souls and transfer them from one "living" being to another._ _Due to the insatiable desire to have our own souls back, this process of soul exchange has become a sick and twisted way of life… Essentially souls have become a currency of sorts in our world and are oft traded or exchanged for goods or supplies or services. Since we are so deep into the subject, I should explain that there can also be souls of differing strength. Let's say, my dear Wonder, that you and I fall in battle. In my current state my soul will produce very little, if any, power at all; however if let's say one of these "immortal" gods were to fall, well their souls would be powerful enough to change the very tapestry of the world!_ _Now onto the subject at hand—bonfires. These sacred altars, built from the bones and dust of fellow fallen undead, are kindled to light by souls and are a place of rest and sanctuary for us undead. It is a place where the Sovereignless Souls one has acquired can also be absorbed into our own body, making us undead permanently stronger, or faster, and overall more "alive," where the hollowing can be staved off… if only for a while._

 _I have no such souls to speak of now, Wonder. Nevertheless I will rest here, because the bonfire has one more function… an important one… If kindled by a bit of what little of my very own soul I have left… I can be revived—physically brought back--if my mortal body falls... My essence can be recollected because of my deposit of some of my soul. This can be a saving grace, but it is in fact a two edged sword, as each time I fall and am revived the bit of my soul I use to light it, is lost permanently. Meaning each time I fall and have to ignite the flames, the less and less of my own soul is left for me._ _There is a critical point… a point not even known to ourselves… In which there is no coming back again. That is yet another way undead goes truly Hollow…_

With this in mind I still think it is wise, as I have never had the opportunity since being brought here and becoming undead. There is a large pronged fire poker sticking out of a mass of skulls and various bones but it is dry and ashen. Yet, as I put my hand over it, I open myself up to it and allow a small, tiny bit of myself out. As if from nowhere, the bones ignite in a warm crackling flame and reach up towards my outstretched hand. The warmth I feel is intoxicating compared to the eternal cold of un-death. It is a feeling I can only describe as… serenity.

Although the desire to stay by this fire forever is overwhelming, the desire to be free, to be rid of this place is the only thing that forces my "eyes" to open again. Across the way is another pair of doors, similar to the ones just opened. They open as well. Outside! Outside Wonder! We are outside! Although the sky has become overcast since seeing the knight earlier, the cool wisp of fresh air tickles nerves on my skin that I thought dead. It is a square courtyard, about 50 yards across with a high wall and balcony leading to a second story and back towards the upper level of the Asylum. I take a cautious step forward, then another… My training must be so engrained in me that I instinctively check my surroundings. Pillars support the upper tier and under there are a grouping of tall clay pots, the size of me, holding gods know what. There's also an open portcullis to the right and a broken chunk of what looked to be a bridge across the courtyard still suspended two stories above. With a little more confidence I proceed towards the biggest set of doors yet. I know these must be the outer gates, _and beyond them is freedom_.

I'm honestly surprised as I get closer and closer to the exit. It is only when I am about to reach out and touch the cold iron door that the wind shifts and with it a putrid, foul stench. _That_ _smell! The Jailor!_ As if on cue I turn to see the enormous beast jump from some higher story down to the floor. The weight of his crash makes the entire grounds shake terribly. The portcullis! It's my only chance… Nothing could survive an encounter with the demon. Better to run and hide.

I am already running, my body moving before my mind can catch up. I feel the whoosh of air that I know is the axe falling where I stood a split second ago. The crash of metal on stone seems to stun the beast and gives me the three seconds and five steps I need to reach the metal grate and hit the lever to lower it behind me. I hear a vicious bellow of frustration as I make my way forward. _Crisis averted… for now._

More murky darkness lies out before me as I enter another underground chamber. There is a shamble in the darkness to the right, without thinking I shove my makeshift dagger in its direction. A choked gurgle escapes the slit throat of a surprised hollow as it plops to the ground. The exit is to the left. It leads to a staircase. Above the roof has long since collapsed allowing the gray morning light to come in. Just as I take it in, a whiz of an arrow passes just past my right ear.

At the top of the hill an archer, undead, but not yet hollowed enough to forget how to fight. I hear the twang of his bowstring again as I duck back into the room for now. As soon as the arrow passes I run up the hill. The archer's reaction time must be slowed by undeath because he is startled by my sudden approach and takes longer to notch the next one. There is a small break in the hall up the stairs and I'm able to dive to the left before the next arrow zooms harmlessly past. I land on something hard and cold. _A shield! Oh, thank Velka…_

It is in surprisingly good shape considering where I find it. It's a medium size kite shield; flaring wide at the top and tapering to a point at the bottom. Let's see you handle this… I emerge from the nook, shield up and run upwards. A metallic clang rings out as the next arrow clatters uselessly off the shield. If I could smile I would've at that point. Now the archer actually flees. You are right to fear me! Fool! At the top of the stairs he turns right into a dead end. I don't stop, don't even hesitate. Shield still out front I slam into him with all my force, knocking the shambling creature down and snapping its flimsy wood bow. Then with two crushing blows with the pointed base of my shield I cave in its skull.

I head to the door ahead. I am now on the second story of the building, overlooking the bonfire room. I enter cautiously but there seems no threat. Seems the calming effect of the fire pacifies the entire area… what a relief, isn't it Wonder? Around the corner there is another maintenance stairway leading to what should be the roof if my sense of direction rings true. _Maybe our escape will be from above Wonder. Perhaps a way to climb down out of sight and reach of the jailor. What do you think? …_ _Still nothing, eh? Ah well. Come my friend, to freedom._ It's a dark ascent, no torch braziers or cracks in this wall… only a rumbling? With not a second to spare I see it; a large stone sphere as tall and wide as the hall is tumbling down on me. I backtrack and run as fast as I can. It is literally right at my heels, I push my tight, stiff muscles to their limit. As soon as the hall emerges into the previous room I dive to the side, the enormous rock proceeds forwards and actually crashes through the wall in front of it. When the rubble settles I hear the most peculiar sound… A sound so familiar, yet foreign… a human voice!

"Hello… i… is someone there?" It asks.

 _Yes_! I want to respond, but again, no use of my tongue. Instead I peer into the hole into the next room. The sight that awaits me saddens me greatly. I see the crumpled form of the knight from earlier; a seeming amalgamation of stone bricks and ruined steel armor. I approach cautiously and notice that there is light streaming down on him from above, although the rest of the room is absolutely dark. I see a hole in the roof from where he fell through.

"It's you, isn't it? The one from the last cell." He asks weakly. I nod, the only response I can muster. "Then I have much to tell you… and not much time I'm afraid." He pauses as another pang of pain racks his body. "That thing found me. That shield there'" He points weakly at the shield I now bear with a single finger, "is the only thing that saved me when he came down on me. Punched me right through the roof, heh heh." I motion it towards him in good conscious to give it back. He nods no. "You need it now… more than I." He coughs and groans.

"I am Oscar of Astora. And I have now failed at my quest… I am dying. But if you will… Will you hear my story?" Again I nod my agreement. "Good. Maybe not all is lost then. Listen well stranger. In my homeland it is said that 'a chosen undead will escape the Undead Asylum and embark on pilgrimage to the land of Ancient Lords.' Well that land is indeed Lordron. As you may know this Asylum marks the end of our known world, and yet it is just the beginning of the pilgrimage so there must be more!" He looks up at me in hopes of some kind of acknowledgement. Again I can only nod and grunt.

"I came here after becoming undead on a mission to be that 'chosen' undead… but as you can now see… it seems that it is not my calling after all… how very disappointing, but perhaps it is yours…" The words strike such a reaction that as stiff as my face is, my brows furrow and I back away slightly… the reaction is disbelief. Not what he was looking for I suspect. "Listen. If you escape this place the rest of the tale says that 'the chosen undead must make pilgrimage and ring the Bell of Awakening. This act is said to grant access to the City of Gods… Where Lord Gwyn and the gods reign!"

My next glance is a questioning one, one brow furrowing. _Why would one want to see **them**? _The knight seems to sense my question well. "Don't you get it man?! The First Flame is going out! It is why the Darksign has appeared and signaled the end of the world… If any have the power to relight the fire, and save our world, it has to be the Gods." I hold my doubts to myself, not having the heart to question a dying man's beliefs. I hold loyalty to only one deity… her.

A visible shudder comes over the armored figure. "Aahh!! Take this my friend. I have no more time in this world. Please, take this and leave, that I might not go Hollow and cause you harm…" He motions with his head at a pouch on his waist. I hesitate only once, but upon his next throes I grab what is inside. My hand emerges with a long crystal perhaps the size of both my fists. _What?! An estus flask! He truly is Undead then… a rare find indeed. A royal family heirloom no doubt. I shall explain later Wonder… hold that thought._ The knight then nods in a different direction, I follow his 'gaze' to a gore covered battle axe. "My weapon… take it. Then leave. My time is up." He goes still and it is impossible to tell if he passed on or just chose to lay there motionless. Couldn't tell since undead do not have to breathe; either way it seems my conversation is over, and my first friend in as long as I can remember is gone. Just like that…

With a heavy heart I retrace my steps to the stairs where I was nearly crushed. Up towards the top is another archer, the one who must have pushed that stone down. You're mine! I scream mentally, groaning loudly, I dodge an arrow, strap the shield to my back and take the axe with both hands. The hollow doesn't stand a chance in hell. He is cleaved in half right through his torso. My thinking is correct. I am now on the roof. It seems the Asylum itself is built into a steep Cliffside with the building portion being at the very top and the untold number of subterranean cells dug into the very mountain itself.

As I walk forwards I hear the jailor roar, but it seems the dumb beast has cornered itself within the courtyard. I suppose the fat that monstrosity has gained from gorging on my kind for centuries doesn't allow it flight! What a twist of fate Wonder! What do you say my friend? Shall we take it on? Shall we do away with all the suffering it has caused?

 _I think YES_!

With renewed purpose and rage I round the corner and take out the two remaining archers I can see. Then through an archway. I am now on the broken chunk of balcony overlooking the courtyard. With a bellow of rage the beast spots me. It charges over to my side of the courtyard. I am still holding my new axe with both hands and as it nears my perch I leap off. As I plunge to the earth below I swing my axe downwards in a vicious slash across the demon's shoulder, chest, and abdomen.

The cry of pain it emits makes even my undead skin crawl. I quickly roll away twice before it turns and tries to now cut me in half with its axe. That massive thing is too big for even my new shield to block so my strategy quickly turns into evasion. I roll aside and forwards, towards its disproportionately huge back end. As it turns to search for me, I unleash a devastating swing and almost cleave its foot off at the knee.

To my surprise it actually leaps up using what lift its tiny wings give it. I am so stunned that I am delayed in my roll and as it comes down, I know I'm in trouble. Pain erupts from my left leg as the beast lands on it with all its massive weight. It must think it has me, because it gets up, an act that seems difficult for it and turns to chop me down with a final blow. Luckily Oscar gave me this! I reach for the estus flask and take a swig. Immediately my leg mends and a furious heat engulfs my whole body. My strength is restored.

I leap away from the two handed swing; a swing that leaves its beady head as close to the ground as it has been thus far. I swing my own axe, and with a spray of sickly green gore and a thump the demon's head drops to the ground, completely severed from its body. The rest of the carcass crashes with a thud that shakes the ground at my feet. With a moan of victory, all I can manage despite my excitement, I move towards the corpse. Now I do what only an undead can. I stretch my hand forwards and I absorb the soul that this creature has. The strength in it is almost overwhelming compared to the little I have of my own, like suddenly being immersed in a rush of cool water after a week in the wilderness.

 _Now I have time to answer your burning question… How did I heal? The Estus Flask, as it is known, is a crystal that is able to hold the heat and essence of a bonfire and transfer a portion of its healing properties into an undead who sips it… But enough with the boring talk. Wonder we have done it! We are free!_

With an almost giddy excitement I shove open the huge front gate to the Asylum and find myself on a narrow path leading further up the face of the cliff and no way back except back through the Asylum. _This makes no sense Wonder! Why lead me here? I don't understand… There is nothing ahead…_ Nevertheless I ascend the narrow path and take a moment to notice my surroundings. The cliff I am on is narrowing to a single point, like a giant finger pushed out from the rest of the world. The cliff is so incredibly high that I cannot see the rest of the earth below as low hanging clouds block the view down for miles and miles around.

 _We truly are at the edge of our world Wonder… I never thought my eyes to behold such a thing. Only, I am left to ponder what I am to do. This place is a cursed place, a place left for my kind to rot away. Where do I go? They will likely kill me if I try and go back to Carim; that is, if I can even get there. I don't know Wonder… I really don't know._ It is only now that I reach the tip of the point that I cast my gaze forward. I am stunned. Ahead, hundreds of miles across this ocean of clouds and space enormous mountain peaks erupt through the foggy nothingness and stand defiantly against the world… These mountains group closer together slightly to the East, forming an almost flat landmass.

 _An ancient crag, the cliff face of the Land of Ancient Lords… the earthen wall of Lordron… it really does exist Wonder, but does this mean that I really am…? No… It simply can't be true… How would I even get there?_ And yet, in my denial I sense something. A familiar presence. It is unmistakable and I could tell it apart from anything else in existence. A presence so powerful and full of authority, and with not an iota of malice.

I _T'S_ HER WONDER… It's her!

I am almost correct. As I reach the last possible step—the farthest point of the edge of this world—I feel the presence intensify. Then from below a flash of black rushes up past the cliff face, startling me. Before me, displayed in a dark black majesty is the most enormous crow I've ever laid eyes on. This thing is massive. Large enough that I am but a rodent to it in size, but it just hovers there. I can feel Velka here, watching me through the glossy black orbs that are its eyes. And then it takes me. It reaches forward, and if it had been anything or anyone besides her, I would have attacked, but not her. _Velka would never hurt one of us._ Instead its strong talons embrace me gently and it flaps a few more times. It takes off, off towards the distant peaks of a strange land.

 _What can Velka possibly want me to do there Wonder?_


	4. Firelink Shrine

Firelink Shrine

I have been flying for what seems like hours. Flying over the endless gray nothing of the clouds below. I know not what lies beneath them, and truth be told, I'm not sure I want to. The emptiness I feel reminds me of the histories, in the Age of Ancients. This somewhat ominous feeling—this… foreboding—intensifies as we near the landmass. Velka's crow has to fly even higher to make it past the last peak.

Ahead of me is a land straight out of myth. An immense brick city dominates a hillside while a swath of green plains stretch out from its base towards me. Beyond the city, is another mesa, rising even higher still; so incredibly high that I don't know if the crow would be able to fly high enough to top it. Further back and in the shadows of the looming mesa is what looks like a lush forest with a waterfall, amazingly enough, being fed from some water source completely unknown. Between these huge chunks of land is nothing at all.

As a matter of fact the entire area that the crow and I are zooming towards right now looks like it may have once been all the same city; enormous beyond human reckoning, that has been pushed right out of the ground, all on these slightly separate land masses. The whole entire area of the plains is strewn with broken stone pillars and walls that have fallen apart. Separating these differing mesas are chasms where world seems to drop off completely. Almost as if this strange land is being supported, or even lifted up into the sky, from below. Could _it be that this entire land of Lordron is atop an Archtree? Could it even be possible Wonder?_

The bases of each landmass all end in yet another cliff, a receding cliff that seems to surround this entire land as it falls off steeply into the same cloudy abyss as the rest of the world around it. It seems I will have to ponder the rest of this place from the ground though, as before I can form another cohesive thought, the crow drops me! As I tumble I see it fly beyond me a short ways, to rest on the top of an old, dilapidated looking church or shrine. Then I see green ground rushing towards my face. I brace the best I can, but my face hits first, my neck cracks and I feel an explosion of pain, and then nothing.

What? Where? Where am I?

 ** _Can you hear me, my love?_** The voice calls out to me in the darkness. It is so calming, so humbling it can belong to no other. My mind reels at the rush of the contact.

 _Yes! Yes, I can hear you my Lady… Shh, hush Wonder! Do not interfere! I hear you, and obey you my queen…_

 ** _Mmm, yes. I can see your heart. You speak the truth…_** My heart cannot contain the joy it feels at those words. I just want to explode from within. To empty myself fully and let her presence become part of me…

 _I was worried. Worried you might have forgotten me._ **O _h, you sweet, sweet thing. How could I possibly forget about my Champion?_**

 _Your?_ My head cannot comprehend those words… it is too big an honor for one such as me.

 ** _Yes, Champion. You are the one. I have chosen you, from amongst all of your bretheren_**.

 _I doubt not thy wisdom, m'Lady. I only ask why it is I that you sought. I am an unclean thing now. I am undead… Very nearly hollow…_ **'Tis truth you speak, my love. But it is for this very reason that I have chosen you**

 _Forgive my utter lack of faith, my goddess, but I still do not understand._

 ** _I cannot stay overlong, dear sweet knight… just know that I have come to the knowledge of a sin un-pardonable. An affront to creation itself and a tear in the fabric of this world that threatens to engulf all of creation. Know this… that I am with you… know this; to the very core of your being. For if not, you will be led astray, and all will end in folly._**

 _My lady! You know my heart. I would never abandon you. NEVER!_ But already I can feel her presence begin to wane, and the world of the living comes rushing back to me.

"Oy. You there!" The sound of a voice forces my eyes to open. All is blurry for a long moment, and when all finally comes to, I am face down in the grass. I lift my gaze. "Took a bit of a tumble there, eh?"

 _Where am I?_ Is what I think… and "Where am I?" Are the words that leave my mouth! Hearing the sound of my own voice gives me such a shock that it forces me up, all at once, to my knees. Immediately I look at my hands. _They are whole! Wonder look, they are living fleshy hands! But... how?_ Only now do I notice that the stranger is still trying to get my attention.

"Ey! Did ye 'it yer head that hard there?" He asks.

"Seems so. Apologies." I say. I still cannot believe I can speak!

"That's the damndest thing I seen in a while there. That bird dropped ye right outta the sky, 'e did." The stranger says, his hands waving about at the sky. The man is donning the most peculiar set of armor I've ever seen. It is wide and bulbous, as if made for a stout round man with an enormous beer-gut; and the helmet is even stranger. It could best be described in the shape of an onion. It is bulbous and round but with the slightest point at the top, and narrow slot going around the front as a way to see out. "'E landed atop that shrine there. 'Asn't taken its eyes off you, niether. Not even once."

"Do you know what happened to me?" The question oozing with desperation. "Why am I human again?"

A long genuine laugh breaks free of the man's gut. "Because this is Firelink Shrine laddie! Doncha know?"

"Oh, Siegmeyer, you fool…" A new voice sounds from beside me. I turn somewhat startled to see another person who it seems has been sitting there this entire time without making a peep. "Of course he doesn't know." If the first man's voice was deep and jovial, this man's is sharp and cynical.

Daring to seem particularly ignorant, I ask "Where is Firelink Shrine? Where am I?"

"Let me guess… You came from the Asylum?" Says the second man, who has yet to introduce himself by name. Accustomed to not speaking out loud I nod. "And you're here on 'pilgrimage?'" He air-quotes.

"I am not certain why I am here to be honest." _A half lie, for now. I do not dare trust anyone with Velka's revelation… especially not this… this Crestfallen Warrior._

"I am. As it is why we are all here, you twat." Crestfallen says, his voice suddenly dripping with venom. "Mmm, let me guess. 'Fate of the Undead' right? Better that you would've stayed to rot in the Undead Asylum. You'll find no salvation here."

"I seek nothing!" I retort, suddenly on the defensive. This whole thing has me so out of order. I never have the underhand in a conversation and it is bothering me greatly.

"Well let me let you in on a little secret, hm hm hm… You're not the first to leave that place, not the first that black fowl has dumped into this accursed place, not the first undead that'll go hollow seeking what cannot be obtained… No, not by a long shot."

 _But Velka said…. No. Wait! They seek to deter me, to undermine my role. I shall have none of this! Wonder, you heard her. WE are her chosen!_

The statement seems to have my face visibly upset; my emotions perfectly readable now in my 'human' skin. "Aye. Th' man speaks the truth, laddie." Adds Siegmeyer. I turn to him with dampened spirits. "All of us have one thing in common 'ere. We're all undead, the lot of us. Sent from our 'omes to this Land of Fire. Sent t' save mankind."

This statement solidifies what Oscar had said. _Can we trust this man Wonder? … Oh how I wish you could speak at times._ "And how exactly are we supposed to do that?" I ask.

A grim chuckle guides my attention back to the Crestfallen Warrior. "Let me help you, heh heh heh heh. Did you know there are actually two Bells of Awakening? One hangs above, in the Undead Church. The other is far, far below, in the ruins at the base of Blighttown. Ring a single one, and nothing will change; however, ring them both and… something… happens. Brilliant, no?" All I manage is a grunt. "Not much to go on, I admit, but I have a feeling that won't stop you. So, off you go… It is why you were brought here, after all, isn't it?" Another cynical chuckle rolls off his grimly smiling lips as he finishes the statement.

 _Off I go indeed. If I spend any more time conversing with this conniving serpent, I think I shall have to remove that forked tongue permanently… But first_. I turn to find that Seigmeyer is walking away already. I lumber after him a small ways. He slows, allowing me to come up beside him. "None of that explains one important thing…"

"'How'd I get back te normal?' Eh?" He predicts.

"Well, yes. I don't understand it. Even the magic of the bonfires restores us… unwholly." I explain, hoping for some clarification.

"Ye almost answered th' question yerself." I raise a bushy dark brown eyebrow in confusion. "Use yer 'ead, laddie. What makes us humans different from th' gods, r the demons, r any other blasted thing? … Think! Think back. You're in Lordron f'r a reason!" He waits as I begin putting the puzzle pieces together.

My eyes widen in realization. The _Furtive One!_ "It's the Soul of the Furtive One… It's the difference between us and Gwyn's ilk, or the Witches, or anything."

"Aye… but tis called the Dark Soul in these lands. It is the very essence of what it is to be human. He was our primordial ancestor, and despite the irreverence that the histories provide, he was a Lord nonetheless" Siegmeyer explains.

"Why Dark?" My curiosity getting the better of me.

"Folks where I'm from say that perhaps the Dark Soul is the reason that the First Flame is going out. Guessin by what I done seen round 'ere… I'd give that legend a lick o' truth, eh."

"So what's so special about this place?" I know I'm pressing my luck. Even one so outspoken as Seigmeyer has a limit to endless lines of questions. For a moment it seems I assumed correctly, as the man in the funny round armor keep walking without answering. Still I follow, but quietly this time. The green land is extremely segmented; small jutting outcroppings forming long steppes and shallow valleys. Bare rock faces pushing out from the grassy terrain form low hanging cliffs and ridges.

We pass the dilapidated chapel, where Velka's crow is still perched. The roof is all but gone, but most of the ornate stained glass mural in the back wall has somehow stayed intact. Oddly enough, and perhaps due to no roof, there is a shallow pool of crystal clear water taking up most of the floor space. It seems oddly serene and therefore somewhat out of place. Behind it I think I spy a path leading down to a cemetery. I want to ask about the purpose of the chapel, about who would be praying and whom they would be praying to. But decide against it for now. _Better to save my questions for the important ones for now._

My silent guide finally stops and still stays silent, but points downwards. In a shallow recess a few yards down, surrounded by concentric stone steps, is a bonfire. _This one is different, though, Wonder… Look how wildly the flame flickers_! The "base" of skulls and bones on this one seem ordinary enough, but whereas a hi normal bonfire creates a flame the likes of a small campfire; this one is almost a roaring inferno.

Again predicting my obvious question, Siegmeyer explains. "This is the Link to the First Flame. It is the original bonfire, and it feeds on no ordinary souls… It is fueled by humanity … kindled with fragments of the Dark Soul itself!" He exclaims, his arms going wide again with excitement.

"So resting at this bonfire… Will restore an undead's lost humanity?!" I ask, matching his excitement.

He chuckles, nodding. "Well..."

"For good?" I exclaim, cutting him off. It seems too good to be true. Not believing for myself, and too impatient to wait for an answer, I strip off the damp rags that passed as my shirt… only to find that unsightly, gnarled swirl of scar tissue and flesh on my left chest. _It's still there… I am still cursed. Still undead…_ My spirit deflates entirely, my hands even fall down at my sides.

"Unfortunately not." Chimes the voice of the Crestfallen Warrior; who seats himself on the stone steps. "Now you know the futility of this pilgrimage…" he spits. "We are to toil endlessly. Go on this suicidal journey. Rise to these insurmountable challenges! And for what?! To be killed and return to the shambling corpses we are striving so hard to rid the world of?! I simply… … Better off going hollow in my opinion."

The statement pangs in my chest, but Velka's words still echo within me.

"No!" I shout defiantly; as much to myself as to him. "You may sit here and rot with the rest, but not I. I shall not fade into obscurity! And with purpose in my soul, I shall not go hollow, no matter how many times I must fall!"

"That's the spirit laddie!" Siegmeyer exclaims with a laugh. "Then be gone with ye! Up to the Undead Burg." He points up; up towards the stone city on the edge of a cliff. A city across a long stone bridge suspended over an endless nothing below. Siegmeyer then turns to the direction past the chapel. "My journey leads elsewhere. Downwards, into the heart of this mountain for now."

"Then may our paths cross again, my friend. Hopefully to the aide of one another!" I exclaim, the grandeur of the moment enrapturing my spirit and fanning the flames of adventure in this knight of old.

So it is, that I set off, axe in hand—Velka's Champion—on a pilgrimage. A journey to enlist the aid of the gods themselves…

Are we prepared, dear Wonder? Are we prepared?


	5. Undead Burg

Undead Burg

The path I find myself on is steeply inclined, up the side of the last chunk of land that makes up the plains. Maybe it was once a staircase, now it's just another rubble strewn hill. As I round the bend I see a hollow knight, shield and sword still in hand. _Hmm. Maybe the hollows here are not so mindless. This should make things… interesting._ I think as it spots me. It rushes me with unexpected speed and gives a strong lunge with his sword out. I am able to shield myself in time but the blow pushes me back a single step. I take into account the terrain; I am close to a chasm to my right.

I push forward now, finding more danger in falling off this world, than facing a single warrior. The hollow blocks a hefty blow with my axe but leaves himself open after. I kick hard into his midsection, sending him to his back. I am about to finish him, when out of the corner of my vision I see a small sphere hurtling at me. I turn to block with my shield and I hear pottery shatter and a split second later I am engulfed in a furious heat and smoke, even through the shield I have I feel the heat from the flame. _Grr. A firebomb!_

The second assailant makes himself known now, approaching with a long dagger. By now the first hollow has gotten up. The adrenaline is now pumping through my veins; a feeling I once reveled in. I feel a smile rise to my lips. The hollow with the dagger comes at first. Using my shield I redirect his attack, leaving his torso exposed and giving me a chance to cleave his chest open with my battle axe.

The other hollow seems completely undeterred by the slaughter of his companion. It swings in several wide arcs. I step to the side of the last in the series and eviscerate the cadaver. Without turning back to see the bodies I concentrate and absorb the meager strength of their souls. _Oh do not look at me like that Wonder. It's the way of the world. He'd have done the exact same to me. I shan't stop, so you may as well get used to the idea. You are trapped after all, inside my head._

The path now approaches the two tier stone bridge connecting Firelink to the Undead Burg. As I approach I am assailed by three more hollows; one with a shield and spear. I dispatch them efficiently, even going as far as baiting one onto the narrow bridge after me and then decapitating it and sending its head off the chasm below. _Maybe he'll see what lies below the clouds_. I chuckle grimly. As it turns out, this bridge is no bridge at all, but an aqueduct guiding a rancid stream of water out away from the city proper and probably disposing of the water off the edge of the land somewhere below.

There is a small building with a single door at the far side. I enter cautiously to see a rat the size of a large hound gnawing on the innards of a fallen hollow that is leaning against a locked grate, probably intended on fleeing. I try n hold my stomach from churning at the stench of death that the vermin emits. It turns to see me and with rabid intensity leaps at me, intent on sinking its sharp teeth into my throat. It takes three chops of my own to dispatch the creature. I check myself for any scratches, as the thing is sure to carry all manner of infectious disease. I seem clean.

A long hall leads finally to an exit. It seems my approach to the city is an odd one as I emerge onto the roof of one of the city's many mud-plaster walled buildings. It seems a viable option however, as many of the roofs are joined by roughly nailed plank crosswalks. Ahead, where my "path' leads, is an old stone fort. The enormous structure rises upwards to link the current slums I am in to a well-built cluster of sprawling homes, various castle buildings, and a large cathedral that dominates the vista up at the top of the next cliff. _That must be where the first Bell of Awakening is hanging!_

I make my way, but only a few houses further ahead I encounter more trouble. It seems I will not find anyone but hollows here. A feral hollow pops up from behind some empty barrels I pass, blade already flying towards me. Nothing I can do but shoulder the blow. It slices into my upper arm, cutting deeply all the way to bone. A howl of pain escapes my mouth, but I push through it and kill the attacker with one blow. _I need to find some armor! But the scraps these fiends wear aren't worth the fuss._

Shield now out but down at my side, I continue. After a time I come up a ramp leading from a single story hobble to a two story structure I see an archer perched on a small parapet. I rush up the ramp, and use my right hand as well as my left to brace the shield as the first arrow clanks off it. As if an archer isn't enough to deal with, another two spear and shield wielding hollow warriors approach from an overpass to yet another conjoining rooftop on the right. _Argh, this is becoming a nuisance! I need to get to top of that fort. Maybe from there I can get the upper hand._

I trade shielded blows with the one spear wielder before he runs out of energy and allows me the opportunity to strike. I lop off his spear arm, and then his head. I take advantage of my position now and push back on the second, all the way towards the edge, where I simply shove him off the edge of the roof. I take too long though, as in turning around I feel a sharp pain in my right calf. With a wince I look down to see an arrow piercing through my calf muscle but stuck halfway through. _Only a flesh wound, no torn ligaments… fine!_ I snarl as I yank it the rest of the way out.

Now the archer knows he's in trouble as I approach the steps that lead to his perch. He rains down one more missed arrow before eating the blade of my axe. The parapet seems like the very base of the fort as I am now on a solid cobblestone floor. To the left is a large square room and straight ahead is a narrow stone ledge leading into the base of the fort proper.

I decide to check on the room to the left first. A good choice it seems. Inside is a fire-poker and skulls—a bonfire! I walk towards it so fast that I almost fail to notice a figure sitting slumped against the wall to my left, a large canvas sack cradled beside him. I draw up my axe instinctively. "Ah. No need for that kind sir." He says in a voice as dry as the desert.

"Who are you?" I ask forcefully.

He chuckles. "Well now… You seem to have your wits about you, hmm? Then you are a welcome customer and I am but a humble merchant. Fallen on hard times admittedly. What say you? Spare some souls and help a starving old traveler out. I trade for souls. Everything's for sale! Nee hee hee hee"

"I shall see your wares." _Maybe he has something useful._ From beneath the hood of his tan turban the merchant's eyes light up; well as much as a hollowing undead's eyes can light up. Laying out the contents of his bag I see a variety of basic swords and weapons wrapped in leather, a few medicinal herbs, and odd ornate wooden chest, and as luck would have it, some half decent chainmail armor. I raise a questioning eyebrow. With a knowing shrug he answers. "Eh. Scavenged off some poor fool who wondered too close to the lower city without being prepared. And when you lose your head, I'll sell yours all over again too! nee hee hee."

"How much?" I ask, pushing down my own reservations about the suddenly sinister merchant and also about the thought of wearing someone else's armor.

"Hm. One thousand." He says after a moment's consideration. _One thousand souls! That's robbery! Ahh, something else I might as well explain I suppose. We have become so adept at soul exchange that we have come up with a way to quantify their value. As of now, with the dozen or so hollows' souls as well as the Asylum Demon's that I now have, I'd say I have maybe fifteen hundred._

"Look at it! It's practically rusted. Eight hundred and no more." I say firmly. As I am saying this, I spy something else intriguing. A small white crystal. I reach for it absently, but see the merchant move his hand, ever so slightly to a sheathed sword I hadn't noticed. I pull back my hand just a hair at which point he pets the scabbard and shushes it as if it were a pet. "Here's my offer. Fifteen hundred souls for the armor and the white soapstone."

He ponders for a moment longer. "So be it!" I put my hand over his and let the soul energy seep out of myself. When he has what we agreed upon I take the items without hesitation. Before I can fully turn to rest at the bonfire he continues. "A bit of advice for my newest customer…" He chuckles menacingly. "Things are getting treacherous in these parts. A 'orrible goat demon has moved in below. And up above, there's that humungous drake and a bull demon too. Stick around here long enough and this place might just become your grave! Nee hee hee".

"I appreciate the warnings… I think. There'll be plenty more souls where those came from if you remain true with me." I leave, making sure to entice him just enough to make him remember me. _Just because he is despicable doesn't mean he won't be useful. Did you see that chest, or the bombs and weapons? A good, if shady, merchant is worth more than a few souls._

I rest now at the bonfire, allowing my soul to fuel it to life and letting its heat and light heal the deep gouge in my arm and wound in my leg before departing out the same door I came through. As I leave I think I hear the merchant whispering "Easy now Yulia… Easy now." The poor thing seems extremely close to hollowing; his mind slipping away against his own will.

"Hopefully, Wonder, such is not my fate anymore." I whisper to myself. _Not our fate, that is…_

Now donning the new leather and mail armor, I head back outside to the base of the ancient fort. My only option forward is across a narrow terrace which is little more than a decorative sconce from the building below. It is just barely wide enough across for me to walk heel-to-toe. To make matters worse, when I am halfway across, I see a hollow atop a parapet begin lobbing those ceramic fire bombs down at me. I have no choice but to run forward recklessly with my shield held over my head and neck.

I arrive into a room singed with pieces of my clothing still smoldering only to be greeted with an ambush of three hollow warriors. By the time I dispatch them I have to take one of the precious few sips from my estus flask to restore my health, although if not for my new armor things could have turned out a lot worse. My luck begins to turn around as I shoulder my way into a barrack that has a small wood chest; likely the belongings of one of the soldiers before going hollow. It contains three vials of gold pine resin—a somewhat magical somewhat herbal oil that is applied to a weapon to imbue it with a somewhat elemental energy that is especially effective against certain foes such as demons and giants. It also contains a single iron key labeled 'cell.'

The layout of the fort seems to fold back on itself as I climb staircase after staircase. I also am becoming more adept at figuring out the fighting style of my enemies, as they now fall before me while I don't even take a scratch. Even the fire bomb artillery soldiers are now at my mercy as I roll forwards past their throw and gut them before they can even draw their weapons.

Now I am at an impasse. Straight ahead is a staircase leading up to the tower that connects the lower section of the fort to the higher one atop the cliff, on the other hand I have a path to the right. I see a glimmer of something at the end of a narrow corridor. _I know it's probably a trap, but just look Wonder. Don't you want to know what it is?_ Against every better judgement screaming for me to ignore it, I cannot. The corridor must be a good hundred feet long with a small circular room at the end. It would seem my caution was for naught as I reach the room without incident. In the center of the room is a corpse, long dead, but with a soul powerful enough to emit its own light; I absorb it. On the corpse is a ring with a dark jewel depicting the "evil eye." _I sense a magic coming from it, a familiar magic._

I wince my shoulders and my mouth cringes as the moment I remove the ring I hear a dragging, scraping sound of metal on stone. I turn to see a terrible sight. Phasing slowly into being and coming towards me with a shambling gait is a knight in a set of pitch black, full steel plate armor, a horned helmet, and a great sword that looks so heavy it is being dragged it behind the figure. _A black knight! I had heard the legends… knights of Lord Gwyn that were burned in a world altering battle with chaos demons when the Witch attempted to create a second First Flame for her own … They are said to be disembodied spirits that still inhabit the armor of their hosts and wander the lands endlessly._ Indeed there seems nothing but two glowing red eyes within the armor.

Maybe it was drawn to the ring as I was, or maybe it is guarding it. Either way I am in trouble. The room I'm in is circular but hardly big enough to maneuver around comfortably. I will have to fight… Intelligently… It shambles towards me, one dragging step after another; its "eyes" fixated on the ring that is now on my left middle finger. I draw my shield and axe, it stops for just one second, bringing its enormous sword to bare. Then it lunges, so incredibly fast that I barely have time to raise my shield and block the stab that surely would have skewered me.

The sheer weight of the impact sends me careening into the back wall and knocks the shield away from my chest. Its eyes flash in anticipation as it thrusts once again. I am able, if only by sheer luck, to leap to the side as the sword embeds itself into the brick wall behind me. _Now's my chance!_ It seems like the sword is stuck, at least momentarily. As the knight struggles to pry the blade out I swing horizontally and catch its mid-section. Several chunks of steel plate fly out and skitter against the stone floor, but the knight simply turns, seemingly un-phased. It swings its now freed greatsword downwards in a heavy chop which I this time do block successfully with my shield.

Still having strength behind my shield arm, I push forwards, performing a shield bash maneuver that puts the black knight off balance. I cleave into its exposed breastplate. Again, only emptiness within. _How can I win?!_ Just as panic sets in I get an idea, but the timing has to be perfect. I dodge another thrust, but my position in the room is now improved. My back is now to the long hall and the knight is backed into the room.

I wait, a few seconds that seem to stretch out an unbearably long time with my adrenaline telling me to move. Then I feint a step backwards, in what would seem an attempt to flee. My trick works, it tries a move that I have been waiting for, a long sweeping diagonal slash which would have cleaved me across my back, if I had intended to run. Instead, as the blade speeds towards my head, I roll forwards, into such close proximity to the knight that I am out of danger of the slash. The knight, however, is still in mid swing and powerless to stop my next attack. I shove the head of my axe straight up into the crease of its armor where its helmet meets breastplate.

With a clank it pops off onto the floor and before it can do anything else at all, I chop down with all my strength at the helmet, cleaving it in two perfectly equal pieces. With An ear piercing shriek, a blast of air escapes it as the ruined armor behind me clatters to the ground. _Now that was a duel Wonder!!_

Adrenaline still pumping through my flushed face, it takes a moment before I can hear anything besides my thumping heart and see without the red haze of battle. I look down at the ring in my possession now. _The Ring of the Evil Eye… A magic ring no doubt. If I could only find a sorcerer or scholar… I have no memory of what powers I now possess and dare not do more than wear it until I am sure._

Now I can continue up the stairs back outside. In the lower level of the tower is a dungeon looking door. I remember I have the cell key. As I approach, though, I begin to feel a darkness that I haven't felt before. There are scrawled inscriptions etched into the door. They speak in a long dead language but just from the feeling I get, I don't feel right. _Maybe I shall return here later… Something tells me who or whatever is in there it is beyond us now Wonder. Better kept locked away for now…_ Instead I see that there is indeed a winding staircase leading to the upper level of the enormous tower. I ascend and only have to deal with one fire bomb lobbing hollow.

I come at last to the door that leads a wide paved path along the top of a wall. The wall connects with another not so tall tower on the upper level of the cliff and from there into rest of the ancient castle fort. As I step across the threshold the ring on my finger thrums one single beat that reverberates through my core… _Danger!_ True enough. As I cautiously approach the other end of the walkway a ferocious beast rises into view and then jumps down off the top of the two story tower to the pathway directly in front of me.

The beast is known as a Taurus Demon, or in some lands a Minotaur. It towers twelve feet tall, and is a bulging mass of fur covered muscle and "armor" of thick heavy bone emerging from its spine, shoulders, and covering its face. It stands upright and has hooves like a bull and two curved horns adorn its head. Its tree trunk sized arms also wield an axe akin to the Asylum Demon, although this one is seemingly better constructed… and sharper.

With a roar that shakes my bones it charges at me with all intent to trample and crush me. I am so overwhelmed by the sight and sound that I don't even have time to draw my weapon. Paralyzed by terror I stand still, body refusing to move. I cry out as one of its horns gorges me right through the gut shredding through the chainmail links as if only paper. It lifts me up high into the sky by simply righting itself to full height. My vision fades and I cough up a mouthful of blood as it grabs me, tears me free of its face, and then slams me into the ground…

The last thing I recall is his axe descending towards my body and an explosion of fiery pain…

 _This… is this really my fate?… Was Crestfallen right about all this? How many more times will I fall before... It really does seem hopeless, doesn't it Wonder?_

And then I wake up again, face down on the dusty ground beside the bonfire; the undead merchant eyeing me greedily… _I suppose it can't be helped… Velka called me here so… So be it_ … I chance a look down and my arms are dark and dried out husks once more. I have resurrected as the champion corpse I had become at the Asylum... _the curse of undeath..._


End file.
